Lament Over You
by otakuawesomesauce
Summary: Stridercest. Dont like, dont read. During a strife, things get a little closer than they should. But are either of them comfterable with this change of events? Please ignore any spelling errors or words that dont make sense, i wrote this on my ipod and auto correct may have changed some words.


Dave was having thoughts. Dangerous thoughts. His blase facade was getting shakier and shakier. He was scared, and flustered. Even his dark sunglasses couldn't cover it anymore. He locked his door, rarely left the room. They would be waiting for him. They would be worried . And there was no way in hell They would understand. His brother had his kinks, puppets for one... But this awful attraction was a line crossed. He was in dangerl of everything now, includi his own mind. In fact, his mind was probably the most dangerous of all. It held the idea, the idea that led to longing...a horrible wish. But now, as he began to imAgine he couldnot stop. He told himself it wasn't too late to forget. And he was lying. In fact, as he stared into his hands, he could only wish and want for a certain gloved pair to be intertwined into his fingers. The hands of the master of puppets, ponies and irony. His very own blood brother. It had all started weeks ago. Strife on the roof. His quick brother Weaved in and out of the shadows, His katana gleamed as the city lights bounced of its dangerous face. Something was different tonight. He was almost magical, moving at a inhuman speed, his pointed shades glinting as he lept, pounced and bounded. He knocked an unexpected Dave hard on the concrete roof, and Dave suddenly forgot how to breathe. His brother had landed, straddled around Dave. Dirk's longer legs wrapped around his own, and time grew faster and faster. The next few minutes were a blur. Their hands were suddenly intertwined. Dave could feel Dirks rugged breathing, and he noticed something rougher in the manner of his brother. He leaned in to Dave, their faces inches apart. Dave could see the light freckles that sprayed across his brother's face, and could feel his breath against his burning cheeks. Dirk held his brothers face, tilting if up towards himself. He began to lean into him , but then Dirk did something horribly regrettable. Something Dave would lament over, tormenTing himself with questions. Something in his expression changed and he dropped Dave to the ground diss spearing once more into the shadows without once looking back. Did he leave at the last minute realizing how uncool he was? Or did he leave because doing- what Dave had expected- would have been incestual? Or was He over thinking the whole ordeal? Dave strided over to his mirror, pretending the confused and tortured expression his reflexion wore was as calm and crisp as it was before that night. He might even drop some sick beats because that's how smooth he was. That's right. Slick bamf who never-ever had abnormal curiosities... His face brke throigh his fantasy, begging himself for help. He broke away . He broke away running, Trying to keep the ghastly image of his own emotional face from creeping into his mind. He had broken the mask, and shattered his barrier. He was like a naked turtle. He could not go out. Once he did, everyone would know. One whiff of him and they would smell his fear. One glance would instantly be directed to his shaky knees. One touch could topple him over. As he reached for his iPhone, he cringes as he sees he has one hundred unread texts. He ignores them, opening safari to check on his sweet bro and hella Jeff blog. Although he wasn't feeling up to creating a new one, the pile of comments underneath his last update brought a smile to his lips. He skimmed them, and he relaxed a bit when he saw the word "cool " reoccur more times than normal. As the comments died down a bit he saw the last comment on the page. "I miss you bro" ...…...,...

It was cruel. It was cruel, and it hurt. It hurt him from deep inside, he could feel the emotions Bubbling up once more, ten times more pained and explicit. Everything he wanted to bury, lose and forget had suddenly sprung out at him, worming itself into his mind sucking every last hope of sanity left. The parasite also had taken home in his heart. Family, friends, and enemies alike would never accept his soul's fucked up decisions. He exed out of the browser. He mused over the idea that he could stay in the room forever, never showing his sorry ass to Texas again. If he could only hermit himself here , he would never have to worry about himself anymore. He could live it up, not having to take shit from anyone. It would be pretty serene, not having to play tug a war with his heart and mind. In fact, it would probably be bliss to be able to breathe again. If he were to stay here forever, he would be able to warnm up very nicely to the prospect of no human contact. He could put all his social programs in the trash. John,Rose and Jade would go on with their lived once realizing his pester chum had been deactivated. The only problem was money. As there was no way in hell he was walking down to the kitchen, he had to kind of shimmy out of his window, jumping epically into foliage of the tree outside, climb down and walk to the nearby CVS and reverse back for nourishment. While his adapted diet of red pop faygo, and sour cream and onion chips was not health concious, it kept him going. He longed for apple juice, but he knew the stop and shop of his hometown was too far too walk, and asking his brother to drive him was an obvious no . He wondered where Dirk was, what he was doing. He was a man impossible to track down. He was gone most nights at some odd brony parties, and his day activities were about as spontaneous as one would expect. Rumour had it he travelled deep into the mountains becoming a ninja with some knockoff naruto anime chsrecters. Others told of the secret factory of robots that would one day rule the world, or of him time traveling and raiding ancient ruins as a badass sidekick. They were of course all silly stories, but it was nice to think he had such a famous brother, even if only by an urban legend or two. He imagined his brother, swiping gold from ancient eguptions, gracefully outwitting every booby trap that presented itself , his manner remaining the pinicle of all possible irony and swag, or doing some cool chi shit, and walking up and down trees like nobodies buisness. He would be the best fighter of them all, a shitty sword to become a trademark in his ready hands. But most of all, he could see his brother, hands covered in black oil, and dirt smudged across his ivory face building a robot from a few measly scraps. He wasn't sure why, but he believed for this, his brother would remove his shades. Dave knew the most about his brother, more than.. everyone and everything else. But he had no hint of an idea about his eyes. The colour was a mystery, like almost everything else about him. Mysteries bothered Dave. He didn't like not knowing all parts of the story, or being tricked. He wanted a straightforward, easy to see answer. He wanted to be able to see things, asses them quickly and dismiss them In a matter of seconds. These teasing, prodding mysteries and questions made Dave want to scream. Not cool. Dave and his pride could not help but be reduced as the torturous twist of fate was leaving him with more questions than answers, which there were next to none of...:...

Dave yawned, reslizing it had been days since he had slept. He flopped on his bed, gazing at the ceiling. There were glow in the dark stars scattered across it. He reached up to them, his hands to grasp at nothing. The stars dimly lit his ceiling, a faint yellow glow. His shades were spotted with a reflection of galaxies of sticky stars. When he was young, his bro had stuck them up. Years later he had tried to scrape them off, but to no prevail. As the silence began to get to him He reached for his iPhone once more, scrolling through his music. He found an abnoxious rap song, turning it up As far as it would go, Letting the beat fill his head, consuming his entire being. He fell asleep in the mix of lyrics and stars. ...

Dave dreamed. He dreamed at first of shoes. His brother's chuck Taylor's, bright orange. He dreamed of they way they looked when Dirk stood, hugging his feet, and empty, strewn across the floor lazily. He dreamed of his brother's shirt. It had a stupid hat decal, in the same neonorange. His shirt was always clean, and the same, except for a few formal exceptions of a white button down shirt. Then Dave saw Dirks hands. He had long fingers, perfect for wrapping around a katana or sewing together a smuppet. His hands were also abnormally large, which usually worked to his advantage, save for his shitty drawings . But the most interesting feature of his hands were his nails. His nails were always perfectally shaped, and usually sported polish of just about any shade- of orange that is. Then something in his dream changed. He could only see black and white, as he stared at the face of Dirk. His brother's expression reviled no emotion, a charecteristic passed down through the Strider family. Until of late, anyway. Dirk's hair, a light blonde shade was gelled up, as if he were some punk-ass anime charecter. But what was more anime about him were his spikey sunglasses, Of which Dirk began to hold both sides of. He began to slowly lift them, not moving a muscle in his body outside his arms. Suddenly, Dave couldn't see a thing. It was pitch black, and he began to walk. He stumbled over God knows what and plummeted down, as if he were Alice falling to fucking Wonderland. When he landed, he could only feel the burning. His vision returned, but it was too bright... And hot. He had fallen right into the sun. As he got hotter and hotter he slowly numbed enough, and once again dreamed of darkness. ...

As Dave awoke, he looked about, disoriented. He was firstly surprised he even slept, and the sweet lure of staying in bed fogged his judgement. But slowly, he began to notice a few things about his locale. Firstly, it wasn't his room. If that wasn't scare inducing enough, HE was in the room, less than a foot away, staring at Dave. This was not what Dave had expected, and he wanted out. It was early as far as he could tell, and it was definitely too early for all this mental pressure. The one Dave's mind has destroyed, built up, hated, and worshiped was at arm's distance. His thoughts ran by so fast he could hardly think at all. His eyes ate up the boy before him. Who he hadn't seen outside of his mind's cage for far too long, or perhaps not long enough. The same black skinny jeans that hugged his slim figure tightly, the same stupid t-shirt, and messy hair that Dave knew Dirk spent hours on, perfecting in a mirror. The same person, the same Dirk. The same always silence between the brothers. And just when Dave wondered if his brother would just stand there forever, he spoke. "we need to talk" Dave could only nod, silently debating if he was halucunating his brother or not. "so. Some stuff happened, you locked yourself in your room. You worried me to hell man." Dave just looked away. How could he have been do worried? He obviously found some fault with Dave, some inn perfection. He left, after all. "look, you've got to talk to me man. Say something! I'm sorry bro, I'm so sorry about what I almost did that night. If I had known then it would shake you up I swear I wouldnt have done anything. I'm sorry man... I was so wrongly attracted and I couldn't stop myself. Please man, talk to me!" Dave's eyes grew wider, and he gasped. Dirk was wrongly attracted? Did he have any idea how Dave had craved him so much, hoping in vain to be held by him, when he had stayed locked up, trying to hide his own embarrassing feelings? Dirk? He was lying, he had to be. There was no way,no way Dirk could ever wanted anything from Dave. Dirk's face broke away from its calm settlement, worried and scared. Dave wanted to touch his face, to sooth him. But he only let them hang limply at his sides. Dirk looked like he wanted to say something else, but whatever it was he stopped himself and made his way to the door. "I'll um, make some lunch" his voice wobbled and he quickly exited the room, embarrassed and sad. Dave closed his eyes, relieved and overwhelmed. If only he could die, and slip away from all the confusion and pain. He lately had contemplated over the possibility of actually dying due to over-average heart hurt. He had decided, no, it wasn't possible. Had it been, he wouldn't have been breathing. He let himself slip into sleep again, this time painlessly dreamless. He woke up to the smell of smoke and a blaring fire alarm ringing in his ears. He remembered his brother, who went to cook... Fuck. He sprinted out the door and bounded down the stairs as fast as he could, making his way into the kitchen filled with smoke. He fanned around him, finally encountering his brother's body on the ground, near the stove. The stove was lit on fire, orange flames liked up the sides, spreading to the counter and microwave. He held his limp brother, and dragged him to the door, blinking hard as he tried to see through the clouds of grey . He threw his shades on the ground, pulling his brother outside, onto the roof . He lay Dirk down, and did what any 13 year old would do. Cry. His brother wasn't even moving, and it was all his fault. If he had only told him the truth... Maybe Dirk wouldn't have done something so stupid. He knew Dirk couldn't cook for shit. Tears trickled down Dave's cheeks, the first time Dave had cried in years. His brother would be ashamed had he been concious. Emotions were weakness, a weakness Dave had succumb to an abundance of times lately. He felt Dirk stir beside him, finally awaken. Before Dave knew how or why, he removed his brother's glasses, marvelling at his spectacular eyes. They were orange, warm and bright. Dirk didn't respond as Dave moved his sunglasses away. Before he had time to weight the danger, Dave leaned in and kissed him. He pressed his lips softly against DIrk's , and slowly let his tongue enter the other's mouth. Dirk immediately fought Dave's tongue with his own, and Dave realized how different it felt to kiss Dirk. It wasn't a throwaway hookup. It was a passionate display of the pain and sorrow they had mutually caused. It was the happy answer. Dirk held Dave to him, and Dave for once in the past week felt safe. One thing still bothered Dave. "why did you leave that day?"

"I thought you deserved someone better." Dave shook his head at the delusional boy.

...

5 years later. Dirk woke up slowly, his boyfriend Dave still fast asleep beside him. He smiled at the beautiful face of the sleeping boy. It made him so happy to see all of it, unblocked by sunglasses of any kind. They had a special deal, that when in the presence of each other, they were not to be worn. They also had a deal Dave had to sleep in Dirk's room so he wouldn't try to lock himself in again... Although Dirk knew that DAve would thankfully not hurt him that way again, he loved having Dave around him to be near. And the nights were certainly far from boring. Dirk grinned at Dave's sleeping body who only wore a pair of my little pony boxers. But Dave was more than a bed buddy. He was the one who knewDIrk, better than anyone ever could, the only person Dirk could show his real emotions to. Dave held the power to crush him, but he instead cradled. He was amazing, a god of techno, a beast of rap, and and a boy of a million layers, each one better than the last. Dirk wondered if when Dave dreamt he saw thir future like he did. There was no way to be surr exactly where life would leave them but he could only hope it to be laden with kisses, and endless possibilities.


End file.
